


Base Programming

by eerian_sadow



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Masturbation, Mech/Mech, Oral, Smut, Sticky Sex, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 21:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl and Jazz meet.  Prowl and Jazz find each other irresistibly pulled to interface with each other. </p>
<p>That can't be right!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wicked3659](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/gifts).



> This work was started in the summer of 2011, just after returning from Botcon, as a repayment for some of my shameless begging during the trip. It was just supposed to be three-ish chapters of gratuitous smut, but evolved into something with plot and character development (and even some backstory!). I love it, but it's taken an unacceptably long time to finish.

  
From the moment that Jazz jumped into the fray against the rampaging Sumdac Systems drones, he hadn’t been able to take his optics off Prowl for more than a few kliks at a time. The black and gold ninja was magnificent, in movement and in body, and he was enraptured. If they hadn’t been in combat, Jazz knew he could have watched Prowl for several solar cycles.  
  
He retreated to his quarters on the _Steelhaven_ as quickly as possible after the fight and retrieval of the Allspark shard in an attempt to meditate and clear his thoughts. He couldn’t ignore the fact that he was deeply attracted to Prowl, and while relations between members of the Elite Guard and lower ranked mechs wasn’t forbidden, he didn’t want to disrespect the other ninja by reducing him to a mere object of lust. He wanted to _know_ Prowl before they moved into physical relations.  
  
But no amount of meditation--or attempted meditation--seemed to be helping. All Jazz was doing was centering his thinking directly on Prowl, causing his interface protocols to come online. He knew the battle was lost when his interface equipment activated, sending a rush of warm air out of his vents and a rush of lubricant into his valve.  
  
Despite how much he _didn’t_ want Prowl to become nothing more than a lust object to him, the black and gold ninja’s form was fixed solidly in his processor as Jazz moved his hands from their resting place on his knees. He drew his fingers along the seams in the armor plating of his legs, teasing himself with light touches against thinly covered sensors that tingled pleasantly as they were stimulated. He lingered over a particularly sensitive sensor cluster, letting the stimulation from his fingertips send pleasurable jolts across his neural systems and into the active pleasure receptors in his valve. He imagined it was Prowls fingers touching him as he slid his hands further along his legs and up to his interface equipment. The white ninja offlined his optics as his fingers brushed over his valve cover.  
  
In his imagination, it was Prowl who teased the edges of the cover until it slid open. Jazz whimpered softly as he imagined the other ninja laying a hand on his chest and pushing him gently backward before sliding a finger into his slick passage. He moaned as he worked the finger into his valve, imagining that Prowl was searching out the sensor clusters hidden there. He touched them lightly as he explored, imagining that the black and gold ninja would be mapping them out and memorizing their locations--taking his time just to make Jazz squirm.  
  
Jazz added a second finger to his valve, stretching himself slightly and brushing firmly across a sensor cluster. He drug the action out, playing as much of the length of his finger across the sensors as he could, sending pleasure shooting up his spinal support. He moaned again, more loudly. In his mind, Prowl teased him, pressing on that same sensor cluster again and again, but giving him no additional stimulation. Jazz whimpered as the pleasure continued and his systems began generating enough heat to raise the temperature in the room. He was close to overload, closer than he had ever been before from so little stimulation.  
  
He thrust his fingers more deeply into his valve, searching out the most sensitive sensor clusters. He imagined it was Prowl reaching for those deeply recessed clusters, stroking them with firm touches that were deliberately designed to build charge quickly.   
  
And still the overload came unexpectedly, sweeping him up in a hot rush of sheer pleasure. His optical sensors whited out for a long moment from the feedback, and he shouted something that might have been Prowl’s name.  
  
When he came down from the pleasure high, Jazz’s body was sated--for now--but his mind was still in turmoil.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Prowl whimpered as Jazz nipped at his neck cabling. The small pricks of pain were soothed away a moment later by long, sensual licks of the light ninja’s glossa and he whimpered again at the change in sensation. Jazz chuckled lightly and repeated the pattern of nips and licks on the opposite side of the dark ninja’s neck.  
  
The black and gold mech writhed on the berth as Jazz continued to lavish attention on the cables in his neck. He wanted--needed--more than that. “Please, Jazz…”  
  
“Please what?” the other mech asked, a teasing tone in his voice.  
  
“Please, I need more.”  
  
“More what, beautiful? More of this?” Jazz bent down and nipped at Prowl’s neck cables again. “Or something else?”  
  
“Touch me!” He caught one of the Guardsmech’s hands in his and lowered it to the panel that covered his interface equipment.   
  
“Moving kind of fast, mech.” Jazz nipped at his neck cables again, the looked up with a grin. “I like that.”  
  
Prowl barely had time to register the words before Jazz began caressing the plating over his equipment. The touches were light, barely there, but they were enough to set his sensors alight with pleasure. He bucked his hips into the other ninja’s hand, attempting to make Jazz touch more firmly.  
  
The white ninja chuckled and stopped moving his hand--though he didn’t remove the fingers from the seams in Prowl’s panel. Instead he shifted slightly and leaned in to run his glossa over the black and gold ninja’s audio receptor. Prowl groaned at the feedback the action sent through the speakers, which his overly aroused systems translated into pleasure. The sensor tingles traveled down his spinal column and pooled hotly in his interface array.  
  
Without any other prompting, his panel clicked open.  
  
Jazz trailed his glossa around the Prowl’s audio sensor a second time, before moving downward--placing licks and kisses along the dark ninja’s plating--to his interface equipment. Without any hesitation, he leaned down and ran his glossa along the rim of Prowl’s valve.  
  
Prowl arched off the berth at the sensation. The sensors buried in the rim of the valve exploded with waves of pleasure as Jazz’s glossa stimulated them, making it hard to reach any sort of higher mental function. All he knew was that he wanted more of that wonderful feeling, and he whimpered and squirmed to try and get it. Jazz pushed him back down to the berth and held him there, teasing his valve with light flicks of his glossa.  
  
“Jazz, please!” At another time, he might have hated that he was begging, but all he knew now was that he wanted more. More sensation, more pleasure, more of anything Jazz would give him.   
  
The Guardsmech didn’t reply verbally. Instead, he slid one finger into Prowl’s valve as he continued those light flicks of his glossa along the rim. At the repairmech’s pleased whimper, he began thrusting the finger in and out of the valve, stimulating the sensor clusters inside with precise, firm touches.  
  
Prowl moaned as the increased sensation brought overheat warnings to the forefront of his processor. “Harder.”  
  
Jazz added a second finger to Prowl’s valve and increased the pace of his thrusts. The flicks of his glossa along the rim of the valve became longer licks, punctuated by suckling and the occasional nip. The white ninja’s skilled fingers sought out and stimulated every sensor cluster they could reach, sending sharp pulses of pure pleasure along Prowl’s sensor net and into his processor.  
  
He cried out as the onslaught of sensation catapulted him into an unexpected overloaded--  
  
\--and he sat up sharply in his berth. His cord was fully extended and dripping silvery transfluid onto his berth and abdominal plating and his valve was dripping with conductive lubricant. There was no one else with him in his darkened room.  
  
With a groan, he fell back onto the berth and covered his face with his hands. He couldn’t fathom why he would be having erotic dreams about a mech he barely knew.


	3. Chapter 3

When he realized that one of _Sentinel’s lectures_ was getting his circuits hot, Jazz realized he might have a problem. The potential threat of organic contamination to the ship was not an arousing subject, especially when brought up at length, in rant format and with Sentinel’s better-than-you attitude. Something was definitely not right with him and, when he thought back on it, it hadn’t been for a few local cycles.  
  
His first impulse was to go see Optimus Prime’s medic. The mech was old, but his record--aside for a bit of insubordination at the end of the war--was solid. He was the kind of mech that could be trusted with sensitive information and not gossip about it. But Jazz also barely knew him and a mech just didn’t talk about his interfacing problems with strangers.  
  
Instead, he decided to save his dignity--for now at least--and use some of his more basic skills to find his answers.  
  
Once Sentinel concluded his lecture, the ninja snuck out of the meeting room and made his way to the medbay. The repair drone they kept on hand for voyages like this one blinked at him in concern, but he waved it off. The thing could barely speak, aside from a few pre-programmed responses, and it wasn’t likely to have the information he needed anyway. Instead, he crossed the room and settled down at the console that would normally be staffed by their medical officer.  
  
And one of these days, he was really going to have to insist that they leave Cybertron with one on board. Not everything could be handled by drone, no matter what the science bots had convinced Ultra Magnus and Sentinel Prime to believe.  
  
Quickly, he entered his symptoms into the computer’s search function and let the machine handle the legwork for him. While he waited for results, he leaned back in his chair and tried to pinpoint when his interface systems had gone into overdrive.  
  
It had to have been the day they met up with Optimus’ crew. He had been on the ship for the rest of their time on Earth, either listening to Sentinel complain about Earth, keeping Sentinel from complaining about Earth or keeping the council back on Cybertron up to date on how things were going between Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime and the Decepticon situation. Sentinel had been out and about, but Jazz hadn’t quite been able to manage it.  
  
Besides, trying to face Prowl after that _incredibly_ detailed fantasy that first night was not going to be fun.  
  
The computer beeped at him after a few joors, informing him that his search was completed. Jazz scrolled through the results, skimming the suggested diagnoses and looking for anything that logically explained his symptoms. He obviously wasn’t suffering from any of the chemically-transmitted diseases from the brothel districts, because that would require that he do more than just a bit of self-service, and his anti-viral codes were too up to date for the Petro-rabbit Virus that had gone through the academy when Sentinel and Optimus were there. That left unknown viruses--which he probably would have had to pick up from Earth’s information networks--and a single, high-security file from the war.  
  
And it was _very_ high security.  
  
Five password protection layers and one judicious use of Ultra Magnus’ security override later, Jazz read over the file. “Well frag me.”  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Prowl frowned as he came down from his overload--the second he had brought himself to this planetary rotation, and fifth in the three rotations since the Elite Guard had arrived on Earth. He hadn’t engaged in so much self pleasure at any point in his life that he could remember, not even just after his interfacing protocols had been brought online when he was young. Now, he didn’t even feel like he could control himself; his interface protocols were bumped up to the top of his active code protocols and nothing he did would turn them off. And worse, he could only ignore them for so long before bringing himself to overload became imperative.  
  
Something was very wrong.  
  
Carefully, beginning to feel a bit sore, Prowl stood up. He would need to clean himself up before he dared to venture into the halls of their make-shift base, but he had to go see Ratchet sooner rather than later. With everything they had been through, it was far too possible he had caught a virus or developed bad lines of code and that needed to be taken care of as soon as possible.  
  
He picked up a cleaning cloth and rubbed at the most obvious traces of lubricant and transfluid. He would need a proper wash in the racks outside the medbay, but this would be enough to get him there without attracting Bumblebee’s attention or causing Optimus to ask awkward questions. He left the cloth near his recharge berth when he was finished wiping himself down and left the room quickly.  
  
Fortunately, their base was in a small building and he made his way to the wash racks without encountering any of the other mechs on his team. He stepped inside and locked the door--not that the human-made lock would stop any of the others if they really wanted in--and went to the lone shower head in the room. He had to make do with washing in water rather than the solvents they would have had on the ship, but Sari and her father had been good about making sure they were supplied with the best of Earth’s soaps and shampoos.  
  
Prowl lingered in the shower, cleaning himself thoroughly and allowing the rhythmic patter of water on his plating to calm him before going in to see Ratchet. Talking about any physical problems with the medic could be uncomfortable at the best of times, but problems involving his interface systems would be doubly uncomfortable. But he couldn’t avoid the subject forever, especially when the sensation of water on plating turned from comforting to subtly arousing.  
  
Reluctantly, he turned off the water and picked up a drying cloth. The act of drying himself off brought the arousal back up to a level that was uncomfortable, but if he focused on business with Ratchet he thought he would be able to ignore it long enough to make it back to the privacy of his quarters to take care of it later.  
  
When he was dry enough, he unlocked the door again and crossed the hall to the medbay. He stepped inside without knocking and hoped that Ratchet was alone.  
  
“What do you want, kid?” The medic didn’t even look up from the piece of machinery he was studying.  
  
“Ratchet, I…” he paused. Ratchet wasn’t looking at him yet--probably hadn’t even realized it was Prowl lingering in his doorway and not one of the others--so it wasn’t too late for him to just turn around and pretend he had never come in. He could still figure out what was wrong on his own; he didn’t need to embarrass himself in front of Ratchet right now.  
  
“Just say it, Prowl.” The red and white mech looked up and pinned him with an annoyed look. “It’s not like I haven’t heard it all before.”  
  
The ninja frowned at him. Ratchet’s attitude wasn’t helping convince him that this was still a good idea. “Is your berthside manner this good with all your patients or am I special?”  
  
“Oh, with Bumblebee it’s much better. But if you‘re a good little bot, I‘ll give you a rust stick when it‘s all over.” Ratchet smirked. “So, what’s the problem?”  
  
Prowl pulled in a steadying draught of cooler air. The conversation would not become more comfortable, no matter how long he put it off. “How possible is it for me to have picked up a virus from the Human’s information networks?”  
  
“Very.” The medic grimaced. “I’ve had to clean four or five out of Bumblebee’s processor after he’s gotten into the music downloads. Why? What’s wrong with you?”  
  
“I have code that’s… running excessively.” Very excessively, if the way his systems were continuing to heat up was any indication. “It is beginning to negatively impact my personal performance.”  
  
“Well, I can’t scan your processor from over there by the door.” Ratchet stood up and gestured toward the room’s lone medical berth. “Come sit down and we’ll get you taken care of.”  
  
Prowl crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the berth. It was far too late to back out now; if he tried to run, Ratchet would just grab him with his magnets and put him through the processor scan anyway.  
  
“So tell me your symptoms,” the larger mech instructed as he opened the access plate that covered Prowl’s data exchange ports and plugged in a portable scanner.  
  
Inwardly, the ninja winced. He had really hoped he wouldn’t actually have to spell it out. “Excessive arousal, highly increased interface drive and a need to self-service. Often.”  
  
“How often?” Ratchet remained thankfully professional. Which was good, because Prowl wasn’t sure he would have been able to take any sort of teasing right now.  
  
“Very often. Multiple times a day, and it’s only getting worse.” The ninja winced as his secondary cooling system kicked on in response to the scan.  
  
“And how long has this been going on?” The medic watched the readings flash across his scanner with a small frown.  
  
“Since the Elite Guard arrived.”  
  
Ratchet’s frown deepened. “Slag.”


	4. Chapter 4

  
  
It was dark when Jazz slipped into Optimus Prime’s base. It was quiet inside the warehouse, probably so the Human girl who lived with them could sleep better, and dark. From what he could tell, they hadn’t even put out a sentry drone or set a watch.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
Jazz’s spark lurched and his interface drive kicked into fully operational status at the sound of Prowl’s voice. It took all his willpower to restrain himself so that he didn’t grab the other ninja, throw him to the ground and interface with him until they couldn’t walk. “Looking for you, actually. We need to talk, mech.”  
  
“Now really isn’t the best time, Jazz.” The black and gold ninja’s arms were wrapped around his chest plates, fingers digging into the seams in his armor as if he was physically restraining himself.  
  
Oh yeah, this was almost definitely what his research said it was. “No, now’s the best time. Cause it’s probably the only time we got left.”  
  
Prowl looked at him for a long moment, frowning. Then he nodded resignedly. “You’re probably right.”  
  
“So where can we go to get some privacy around here?” The white ninja fidgeted a bit, shifting from one foot to the other with the effort it took to not reach out and grab Prowl.  
  
“My quarters are this way.” With obvious effort, Prowl turned away from Jazz and led him toward out of the main room.  
  
The Guardsmech followed, feeling an odd mixture of excitement, nervousness and sheer arousal. If Prowl was feeling this half as strongly as he was, then it was a miracle that they had made it into the hallway. He barely managed to keep his hands to himself as they entered Prowl’s room.  
  
“Nice tree,” Jazz said as Prowl closed the door.  
  
“Thank you. But you didn’t come here to comment on my décor.”  
  
“No.” The white ninja shook his head and turned to face the other. “Look, Prowl, it goes kind of like this: we got this coding that makes some other bot absolutely irresistible to us and mine’s running hot. And it’s focused--”  
  
“On me. I know. Ratchet found mine this afternoon.” Prowl took a step closer to Jazz. “I was supposed to contact you in the morning and figure out how we were going to handle it.”  
  
“How do you want to handle it?” Jazz felt himself drawn closer to the other mech in turn.  
  
“I want,” Prowl came close enough to touch, and laid a hand on the Guardsmech’s chest plates. “To take you up against the tree. I want to ‘face you until you can’t stand and then do it again after you’ve recharged. But we can‘t.”  
  
“Mech, I don’t think we have a choice.” Jazz wrapped an arm around the slender mech and pulled him in for a kiss.  
  
Prowl responded eagerly, reaching up and wrapping his arms around the larger mech’s neck and kissing him back with unrestrained lust. The Guardsmech moaned at the absolute rightness of the sensation.  
  
 _This_ was exactly where he was supposed to be and who he was supposed to be with.  
  
He let the other ninja take control, drowning in the sensation of warm lip components massaging his own and talented fingers playing along the cabling in his neck. Jazz barely noticed when Prowl began moving him further into the room. He grunted when his back met the hardness of the tree, but he didn’t release the other ninja.  
  
Prowl pulled back from the kiss and moved down to nip at Jazz’s neck cables. The Guardsmech gasped softly at the sensation and squeezed the repair mech’s waist more tightly. Prowl repeated the gesture on the other side of Jazz’s neck and then started moving downward to lick and nip at his chest plates and headlights. Warm tingles followed each lick and a sharp spike of arousal followed each nip and the white ninja allowed himself to simply get lost in the sensation.  
  
The black and gold ninja slid out of Jazz’s arms and moved further down his body. He continued his pattern of licking and nipping on the way down, teasing at the white ninja’s seams and finding hot spots Jazz never even knew he had. The Guardsmech shivered as Prowl stimulated his sensors and sent rushes of pleasure across his neural network. His support struts already felt weak, and all the other mech had done was touch him.  
  
“Ah, Prowl, please!” He dug his fingers into the bark of the tree to hold himself up as the dark ninja kissed his way down to the panel that covered his interface system.   
  
“Please what?” Prowl glanced up with a smirk before returning his attention to Jazz’s panel. He ran his glossa around the edges, teasing at the seam between it and the rest of the white ninja’s pelvic plating.  
  
Jazz groaned at the stimulation and the bolts of pleasure it sent through his systems. He slid the panel back as Prowl’s talented glossa teased him almost painfully. “Please, I need more.”  
  
Once the Guardsmech’s panel was out of the way, the dark ninja wasted no time in transferring his licks and touches to his valve. Jazz trembled with pleasure as Prowl lapped at the sensor nodes along the rim of his valve and massaged the armor seams in his legs. He could feel the overload building in his circuits already.  
  
“Prowl…” His lover’s name was barely distinguishable from his moan as the other mech slid a finger into Jazz’s valve. He thrust into the touch, stimulating his sensors on the other mech’s digit. Prowl responded by laying his free hand on Jazz’s abdominal plating and pushing him back against the tree. He held the white ninja in place as he thrust his finger into Jazz’s valve a few times, searching out the sensor clusters and stimulating them just slightly.  
  
Jazz looked down at him as he worked and thought he might overload just from the sight of having this fantasy fulfilled. Prowl looked back up at him with a sly grin. “More?”  
  
“Yes, please!”  
  
Prowl kept him pressed against the tree as he added a second finger to Jazz’s valve. He thrust them carefully, deliberately stimulating a line of sensor nodes along the front of the orifice. Then he leaned his head down and suckled at Jazz’s still recessed cord.  
  
Jazz’s visor blanked out as the overload washed over his systems. His spark flared with excess energy and he felt his legs give out beneath him. Through it all, Prowl stayed in place, thrusting his fingers in Jazz’s valve and sucking his cord until the overload left his systems and the white ninja whimpered from the over stimulation.  
  
Prowl pulled his fingers out of Jazz’s valve and released his cord with a parting lick. Then he crawled up the other ninja’s frame and planted a kiss on Jazz’s parted lip components. “I really didn’t think it would be that fast.”  
  
Just having Prowl draped across his chassis was revving his systems back up. “Oh, we’re not done yet.”   
  
“Good.” There was a soft click of armor retracting and then Prowl shifted himself so that he was sliding down onto Jazz’s cord.


	5. Chapter 5

They were sprawled in a sticky, satiated pile at the base of the tree when the door to Prowl’s room was unceremoniously flung open.  
  
“Prowl, roll out! Ultra Magnus says Jazz has gone…” Optimus’ voice trailed off as both ninjas looked at him tiredly. “Apparently Jazz has gone here.”  
  
Prowl didn’t miss the note of embarrassment in his commander’s voice. “Yes. He’s right here and perfectly safe.”  
  
“Yes, I see that.” The prime backed toward the door, valiantly trying to look at anything except the mechs on the floor. “And since he’s fine, I’ll just go let Ultra Magnus know. Right now.”  
  
Jazz chuckled. “Thanks, OP. Just tell him I’ll explain later.”  
  
“Right. Not that this,” Optimus waved his hand toward them, “Needs a lot of explaining. Or… um… I’ll just go.”  
  
They watched as the red and blue mech retreated through the door, pulling it closed behind him. Prowl was quite certain he would be getting a flustered, embarrassed apology from his commander later, but right now he was really too tired to care. He settled his head back down against Jazz’s shoulder with a contended sigh.  
  
“We really ought to hit the wash racks before anyone else walks in on us,” the white ninja said, tipping his head so that he could kiss the center of his lover’s chevron. “Save some embarrassment, you know?”  
  
The dark ninja sighed, this time in resignation. Tired or not, he was probably not going to be getting anymore rest. Optimus was just the first of his teammates that he would be seeing this morning; Ratchet would almost certainly be pounding on his door the moment he heard that the ninjas were both present and online.  
  
Prowl climbed to his feet reluctantly. “Ratchet will want to see us as well, I imagine. He said we would have to decide how to handle the code as soon as possible.”   
  
Jazz nodded as he stood as well. “And we should probably get on that now, while the code’s quiet.”  
  
He hadn’t noticed it before, but Jazz was right. The code was laying dormant in his processor for the moment, its parameters apparently fulfilled by his night of interfacing with the other ninja. “Yes. Come on, the wash racks are this way.”  
  
They walked to the wash racks quickly, not wanting to give Bumblebee a chance to taunt them or to have to answer any of Sari’s innocent-but-uncomfortable questions. Prowl though that they might actually make it unseen by any of their teammates, but Ratchet was leaning against the medbay door when they came around the corner.  
  
“I want both of you in the medbay in ten minutes.”  
  
The ninjas exchanged an uneasy look before Prowl replied. “Yes, Ratchet.”  
  
“Ten minutes or I’m coming in after you. I don’t care _what_ you’re doing.” The medic gave them a pointed look.  
  
“We’ll be there,” Jazz assured him.   
  
“Good.” With one last almost-intimidating look, Ratchet turned away and stepped into the medbay.  
  
Prowl sighed. “Don’t let Ratchet bother you. His emotional subroutines seem to be set to a default of ‘grumpy old mech’, but he’s not as bad as he pretends to be.”  
  
“Yeah?” The white ninja followed the other through the door to the wash racks. “At least he’s old enough to actually have a reason to be.”  
  
“He went through a lot in the War.” Prowl moved to the shower and turned the faucet on. “I apologize for the primitive conditions. We have to make do with what the humans can give us.”  
  
Jazz put a hand under the falling water with a smile. “It’s better than some places I’ve been. And I kind of dig that there’s actually enough water here to wash with.”  
  
“It’s nice,” the black and gold ninja agreed. “Sometimes, anyway. There are times when a good solvent would be better, though.”  
  
“Well, if you want a real wash before we go, we’ve got some nice wash racks on the _Steelhaven_.” Jazz grinned as he reached for a bottle of cleaner from the rack. “I promise that there won’t be any hoses this time.”  
  
“That does sound nice.”   
  
They washed quickly and with a minimum of extraneous touches. The code was dormant now, but neither of them knew what would set it off again and they did have things that had to be discussed. They were two minutes ahead of Ratchet’s deadline when they stepped out of the wash rack and crossed the hall to the medbay.  
  
“Sit down,” Ratchet said as soon as they were both through the door.   
  
The ninjas followed the medic’s instructions, moving to the medical berth and sitting down. Ratchet handed each of them one of Bulkhead’s oil-and-fuel concoctions with a knowing smirk.  
  
“So, I take it the two of you had a good night?”  
  
Prowl looked down in embarrassment at being teased about his night with Jazz after they had already been walked in on by Optimus. Jazz just grinned unrepentantly. “Oh yeah. It was _wild_.”  
  
“Well don’t give me any details.” The medic’s teasing smirk turned more serious. “The code’s gone dormant then?”  
  
“Seems to,” The white ninja replied. “But I got some questions about that. The file I found wasn’t real explanatory, you know?”  
  
“For that matter,” Prowl added, “Neither was your explanation yesterday. I think it’s time for you to tell us everything you know.”  
  
Ratchet nodded and settled down onto his chair. “I didn’t want to say too much before you were both here, but you need to know.  
  
“Just after the war, it occurred to the science division that our entire race’s ability to procreate had been lost with the Allspark. Sure, there were some new sparks from the Well, but they were few and far between and not nearly enough to sustain our population. Slowly but surely, we were going to die out; it was a given. So a bunch of medics and scientists got together to find a solution and they came up with …a mating code I guess you could call it. It never had a real name as far as I know.” The medic fidgeted with a small wrench as he spoke, not looking up at either ninja. “The code works like this: two mechs meet. The code analyzes the other mech and determines compatibility between their sparks and determines the potential for them to make a newspark via energy sharing and spark merging. Then, if they’re compatible, the code fully activates and forces the two of them to interface until they’ve produced a newspark. It has a dormancy period of about one solar cycle after interface and then it starts right back up if there's no newspark.”  
  
Prowl and Jazz were both silent for a moment after Ratchet’s explanation. Then the Guardsmech shook his head in disbelief. “Heavy. But if the code wasn’t made ‘til after the War, how’d we get it? I know I didn’t authorize it, and I’m pretty sure Prowl didn’t either.”  
  
“Everyone has it, except for the Decepticons. The council at the time ordered it implanted into every mech and femme online, and it became standard programming for any new protoform to come off the line afterward. No one knew about the specifics except the medics who had to implant the code during routine maintenance or upgrades.” The white and red mech scrubbed at his face with one hand. “They made us do a lot of things that we never should have done.”  
  
“Not just the medical corps.” Jazz gave the medic an understanding look. “We all did a lot of things that weren’t right. Question is, what are you gonna do now to fix it?”  
  
Ratchet sighed, but his face resumed a more professional expression. “Well, that will depend on whether or not the two of you spark-merged last night. If you did, there’s not a thing I can do until one of you is carrying a newspark.”  
  
“We didn’t,” Prowl assured him. “I remember having that much control, even if the rest of my higher functions seemed to be gone.”  
  
“Good. The code won’t have backed itself up in the rest of your core programming then and I’ll be able to delete it.”  
  
“Then let’s do it,” Jazz said.   
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
The sun was going back down when Ratchet finally finished digging through their processors to find all the stray bits of the code. The ninjas were exhausted when he was finished, Ratchet was snappish and Sentinel Prime was in the main room of the base demanding that Optimus “release” Jazz at once.   
  
Loudly enough to be heard outside the base.  
  
Jazz sighed as Ratchet closed up Prowl’s access panel. “Guess I better get out there and rescue your crew from SP.”  
  
“That would be wise,” Prowl agreed. “Optimus can hold his temper, but Bumblebee will probably do something to him that will get us all thrown in the stockades.”  
  
“Not likely. Bee, sure, but I’d pull the right strings to keep the rest of you out.” The white ninja smiled at the other. “I’ll come back after he’s calmed down some.”  
  
“All right.” Prowl gave him a small smile in return. “I’ll see you soon then.”  
  
“Oh knock it off, both of you,” Ratchet growled. “And get out of my medbay. I need my beauty rest.”  
  
The black and gold ninja gave Ratchet and amusedly tolerant look and the white ninja chuckled. They both followed his orders, however, and left the medbay. Sentinel’s bellowing was louder in the hall and Jazz sighed.   
  
“Gotta go, Prowl.”  
  
“I know.” The repairmech frowned slightly.  
  
“None of that.” The Guardsmech grabbed the other ninja and kissed him soundly. “I’ll see you later.”  
  
Prowl stood outside the medbay door, slightly dazed, as Jazz walked toward the main room.  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
It was full dark when Jazz and Sentinel Prime returned to the _Steelhaven_. Ultra Magnus was standing at the base of the boarding ramp waiting for them with a displeased frown on his face.  
  
“Jazz, you deserted your post. What do you have to say for yourself?”  
  
“Boss, we gotta talk.”


	6. Chapter 6

They moved together like well choreographed dancers. Prowl’s steps were a little bit rusty, but that could be attributed to the lack of a decent sparring partner for vorns before meeting Jazz. But they were almost perfect together, moving in tandem and covering the openings left by one or the other during the Decepticon assault. They were precise, dangerous poetry in motion as they picked their target.  
  
Blitzwing, for all that he had three personalities and the weapons to go with, them hadn’t stood a chance when the ninjas had cut him out from the Decepticon pack to take him down.  
  
It didn’t take long for them to get the triple changer riled up and locked into his violent, angry personality, which made their work easier for them. Blitzwing was single minded when he was this angry and focused only on eliminating his targets. Their rush tactics--a quick punch and retreat or a kick as they leaped over head--kept him angry and focused on them and they slowly drew him away from the warehouse. Flames danced around them as they taunted him and layered on the small damages. A scratch here or a dent there didn’t seem like much at the time, but Prowl knew quite well how much they would hurt as they added up and how quickly that would happen.  
  
Blitzwing was just starting to slow down when Megatron called the retreat. The triple changer grabbed Prowl as he passed overhead one last time and slammed him into the ground before following his leader’s orders.  
  
Jazz moved to the other ninja’s side quickly, ignoring the Decepticons who were flying away. Carefully, he helped Prowl pick himself out of the pavement. “You all right?”  
  
The black and gold mech sat up with a wince. “I think so. But I’ll be picking concrete out of my joints for a week.”  
  
The Guardsmech helped him stand, steadying the repairmech when he swayed on his feet. “You sure? You don’t look too steady on your stabilizers there.”  
  
Prowl nodded. “Just a bit of disorientation. I’ll be fine.”  
  
“No need for heroics, Prowl.” Jazz slung a black and gold arm over his shoulders and helped the other ninja over to the medic. “I won’t think less of you for being mortal.”  
  
Prowl was kept from answering by Ratchet’s order to sit down and let him look, but he couldn’t look away from Jazz’s worried expression.  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
“Jazz, this really isn’t necessary,” Prowl protested as the white ninja dragged him into the wash racks onboard the _Steelhaven_.  
  
“No, I promised you a shower and now’s the perfect time for one.” Jazz smiled as he closed and locked the door behind them. “It’ll do wonders for your joints after Blitzwing’s going away present.”  
  
“And you’re not going to let me out until I’ve had one, are you?” Prowl’s smile was playful as he looked at the other ninja.  
  
“Nope, not a chance.” The Guardsmech stepped closer to the dark ninja mirroring his smile. “You took a beating out there and I want to take care of you now. Let me pamper you for a bit.”   
  
“Jazz, I--”  
  
“Prowl.” Jazz reached out and pulled the black and gold mech into his arms. “I’m not calling you weak or saying you can’t manage on your own by doing this. It’s just me, showing you I care.”  
  
“You care?” Prowl’s visor met Jazz’s with no small amount of surprise.  
  
“I do.” The white ninja reached up and traced a thumb gently over a finely sculpted cheek plate. “Probably more than I should.”  
  
“You barely know me.” Prowl reached up and laid his hand over Jazz’s.  
  
“Don’t think that matters, mech. I do care.” Jazz smiled gently. “Isn’t that enough?”  
  
Prowl looked away with a frown. “It’s not that simple, Jazz. It can’t be, not anymore.”  
  
“Why not?” The white ninja tipped the other mech’s face back toward his. “I _care_ , Prowl. I care about you and I care about what happens to you. Nothing more complicated than that.”  
  
The dark ninja sighed. “This is just leftovers from the code. You didn’t care before the code, so why would you now?”  
  
“Nah, I think the code just pointed us in the right direction.” Still smiling, the Guardsmech leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Prowl’s lip components. “It’s my spark that cares, mech, not just my processor.”  
  
Prowl’s smile was sad when they broke apart. “I want to believe that, but how can I after what the code did to us?”  
  
“You’re thinking too hard. Just let go and feel for a while.” Jazz grinned. “I know our Master taught you how to do that.”  
  
“I’ll… try.”  
  
“That’s all I ask.” The white ninja smiled again, then turned the dark ninja toward the solvent showers. “Now, shower. I’ll help you pick the gravel out.”  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Prowl sat in the highest branches of his tree--the highest that would support his weight, at least--and stared out at the stars that could be seen through Detroit’s light pollution. They still looked strange when seen from Earth, but they had the same soothing effect on his mind they had always had on Cybertron. They were constant and unchanging to the standard optical sensor and that helped him find some sort of steadiness in his own spark.  
  
Right now, that was something he desperately needed.  
  
Jazz had said that he cared about him. That was an almost unfathomable though; no one had truly cared about him since Master Yoketron. Though, admittedly, he hadn’t really given others much opportunity to do so. But even his own team kept him at arms length thanks to his tendency to do the same. He didn’t even know how to handle someone actually caring about him or what happened to him.  
  
And yet, despite all that, he couldn’t deny that he was starting to care for Jazz in return.  
  
The ninja rested his head against the trunk of the tree, letting it support him as he thought. It seemed impossible that he actually cared for Jazz after such a short amount of time, but it was certainly there--in his spark and not just his processor, as the Guardsmech had said. It seemed equally impossible that his feelings could be anything but leftover bits of the mating code.  
  
But the code had only made him feel base need, not actual feelings.  
  
Inwardly, Prowl admitted that he didn’t know what to do. He kept watching the stars, and hoping he would find some kind of answer by sunrise.


	7. Chapter 7

  
  
“And just what do you want, _maintenance bot_?”  
  
Prowl stood at the foot of the boarding ramp to the _Steelhaven_ and glared at Sentinel Prime. A confrontation with the loud mouthed mech had not been on his list of things to do before seeing Jazz today. He’d had a hard enough time convincing himself that coming out here had been a good idea in the first place. “I’m here to see Jazz. I would appreciate it if you would step aside so that I can board.”  
  
“Oh I don’t think so. None of you repair bots are coming on board without Ultra Magnus’ express permission.” The prime gave him a smug look. “After all, none of you are actually authorized to be on board this ship.”  
  
The ninja returned the smug look. “Actually, I’ve had permission to board for days. Your ship has a very nice oil bath.”  
  
“Oil… bath…?” Sentinel’s optics went wide with horror.   
  
Prowl smirked. “Oh yes. I’ve quite enjoyed being able to use it after sparring with Jazz. Earth is nice, but it can be hard on one’s joints.”  
  
“You’ve dragged organic contaminants into the oil bath?” The blue mech’s frame trembled slightly.  
  
“Not deliberately, but accidents do happen. Perhaps you should check, just to be safe.” He felt more than a little underhanded as he said it, but he knew Sentinel wouldn’t leave him alone if he didn’t do _something_ to get rid of him. “You wouldn’t want Ultra Magnus to be contaminated by some nasty Earth spores, would you?”  
  
Sentinel glanced between Prowl and the interior of the ship and then back to Prowl. “You are a hazard to everyone’s safety! I don’t want you dragging any more of your organic filth inside this ship! I hereby--”  
  
“Cool it, SP.” Jazz stepped out onto the boarding ramp and put a calming hand on Sentinel’s shoulder. “You know Prowl ain’t any more dangerous than I am.”  
  
“But he-- and organic contaminants and… and…” the younger mech looked frantically between the ninjas.  
  
“Just go inside and hit the wash racks, mech. I’ll take care of Prowl.” The white ninja gave the black and gold ninja a smile and a wink.  
  
Sentinel gave Prowl one last calculating look, then retreated into the ship with a visible shudder. The ninjas watched him go with amused expressions.  
  
“You know, it’s far too easy to get him panicked over organic agents.” Prowl said. “He can’t even see how irrational his own reactions are. I’m certain that he’s brought in far more contaminants than I have.”  
  
“Probably,” Jazz agreed easily. “I imagine that he’ll be petitioning the security command back in Iacon to update procedures for organic planets after this trip. It might even do some good. But you didn’t come here to talk about Sentinel and his organic phobia.”  
  
“No, I didn’t.” Prowl fidgeted, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his decision to come out here alone. “I came to see you. I hoped that we could… spend some time together.”  
  
The white ninja’s smile widened. “Prowl, you know I’m down with spending time with you. What did you have in mind?”  
  
Prowl’s spark lifted at Jazz’s response. It had seemed silly when he decided to come out here, especially after being harassed by Sentinel at the boarding ramp, but the other mech’s reaction helped set him at ease. Just being around Jazz set him at ease.  
  
That was something he wasn’t ready to examine too closely yet.  
  
“I remembered that you expressed some interest in learning about Earth’s cultural and artistic endeavors. There’s a sidewalk art show today, near the college and I thought that might be a decent place to start.”  
  
At the way the white ninja’s face lit up, Prowl knew he had made a good choice. “Mech, that’s a _perfect_ place to start. Lead the way.”  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Jazz smiled as he carefully set the tiny picture frame on a shelf in his room. He didn’t keep many personal belongings on the ship, so the tiny image looked especially out of place in the room, but he had been so touched when the street artist had given it to him. The whimsical image was a style that was certainly unique to Earth and its inhabitants, and it was the perfect memento of his first real outing with Prowl.  
  
The first of many, he hoped.  
  
He had enjoyed himself this afternoon, as much as he had enjoyed any time he had ever spent with Prowl. They complimented each other well and he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t hoping for more. They made good partners in combat and good friends out of it and he was really beginning to believe that they would make good life mates.  
  
And wasn’t _that_ a heavy concept?  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
If he hadn’t been looking right at the door, Prowl might not have noticed when Sari poked her head into his room. “Can I help you, Sari?”  
  
She shrugged one shoulder and stepped inside. “Nobody else is here. Can I stay in here with you?”  
  
She looked so lost and alone that he couldn’t bring himself to say no. “You may, but only until one of the others gets back. I have to get ready to go out with Jazz tonight.”  
  
The girl perked up at that. “Oh! Are you going out on another date?”  
  
“It’s not a date, Sari. Cybertronians don’t date.” He moved to his storage crate and pulled out his waxing supplies.  
  
“Oh.” Sari crossed the room and peered up at him. “Then what is it?”  
  
The ninja sat down once the proper supplies were retrieved, so that she didn’t have to contort quite so far in order to see his face. “We are just going to a film festival tonight.”  
  
“So who’s paying?” She plopped down next to him. “Because if one of you is paying for both of you, it’s a date.”  
  
“No, it’s a date if one of us is courting the other for mating purposes.” He gave her a firm look. “Which we are not doing. We are simply going out and enjoying a movie together.”  
  
“Uh huh. So why are you getting all cleaned up, then?” Sari raised one eyebrow and gave him a knowing look.  
  
The ninja looked at the little girl for a long moment, then sighed. “Sari, we’re not going on a date. We are two friends who are going out to see a film and have fun together. We’re trying to get to know each other better.”  
  
“Prowl, that’s a date.”  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Jazz smiled appreciatively when Prowl stepped outside to meet him. The black and gold ninja _shone_ in the fading sunlight. Prowl had obviously gone to some effort to make himself look good for tonight and the white ninja was touched by the gesture.  
  
“Prowl, you’re beautiful.” Jazz told him.  
  
The other mech smiled shyly. “Thank you. Are you ready to go?”  
  
The guardsmech didn’t miss the way the dark ninja deflected the conversation away from his appearance, but he let it go. There was no reason to get Prowl worked up about it and ruin their evening. “Ready whenever you are. I can’t wait to see this “drive-in” place you were talking about.”  
  
“This way.” Prowl dropped down into his vehicle mode and headed toward the edge of the city. Jazz followed.  
  
It was a nice drive, though the traffic was a little heavier than Jazz had been expecting. The Humans were moving through their fast paced lives, barely noticing the Autobots as they passed. Jazz did his best to ignore them in turn—as much as he could while driving—and focus on Prowl and the lovely sunset they were driving into.   
  
They pulled into the drive-in with a small crowd of Humans. There were fewer other attendees than Jazz had been expecting to see, but Prowl didn’t seem at all alarmed as he spoke with the Human at the ticket window. The white ninja waited patiently as the other mech arranged their admittance.  
  
“It will be most comfortable for us in the back corner,” Prowl said when he was finished with the arrangements. “The space was designed for larger vehicles, so we’ll be able to watch without being in our vehicles forms.”  
  
“I like the sound of that,” Jazz replied. “Lead the way.”  
  
Prowl led the way through the front gates and into the lot. There were more Humans inside than Jazz had initially thought, some of them in groups of five or six within their cars. They were all parked facing a large white board and some of them were mounting small boxes on the sides of the vehicles. The white ninja was curious, but he decided that questions could wait until they were settled in.  
  
The space in the back corner was, indeed, much larger than the spaces the cars in the main lot were using. They were wide enough to easily accommodate Optimus Prime’s vehicle mode and had more of those little boxes set on tall poles. Jazz transformed and poked one carefully.  
  
“What are these?”  
  
“Speaker boxes.” Prowl transformed as well, then sat down on the ground. “They transmit the audio track from the film to us here, rather than having a larger speaker set installed for the entire venue. It allows us to hear, without disturbing everyone around the drive-in.”  
  
“Groovy.” Jazz grinned as he settled down next to Prowl. “Humans are clever little people. But why an outdoor viewscreeen? I thought they didn’t like getting out when the weather was bad.”  
  
“It’s a novelty. They enjoy the drive-in because it’s not the standard format for their film entertainment. And being inside their vehicles as they watch gives them the illusion of privacy and creates fewer interruptions if someone has an angry child or is ill.” Prowl returned the other ninja’s grin. “This particular drive-in specializes in what the Humans call vintage and retro films. They show films that aren’t part of the modern age, but are still good or have a special cultural relevance.”  
  
“So what are we seeing tonight? Good movies or culturally relevant movies?”  
  
“Both, actually. Tonight is the second installment of the drive-in’s Star Trek series.” Prowl looked away shyly. “I hope you don’t mind that I picked something I already knew I would like.”  
  
“It’s fine.” Jazz nudged him with a shoulder. “I gotta count on you to know what’s good around here and what’s not, remember?”  
  
“Yes, of course.” Prowl looked back up and gave him a wry smile. “Otherwise you might be left to Bumblebee’s interpretation of culture.”  
  
“And that is something no mech in his right processor wants.” Jazz chuckled. “So, did we bring snacks? I could really go for some of those rust sticks Bulkhead makes.”  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
They had watched the first film of the night mostly quietly. Jazz had been confused by some of the cultural references and has asked questions, but mostly the two of them had simply watched and enjoyed the film.  
  
“So… why whales?” Jazz asked during the break between movies. “I mean, there’s a lot of things that the creators could have picked that would have worked, you know? So why an animal?”  
  
“They were making a statement about Humanity’s destructiveness toward its own home.” Prowl frowned sadly. “Humans have not always been the best caretakers for their world. They have often been the sole cause for entire species becoming extinct. The 1980s—when this film was made—saw an upswing in the awareness of the problem, and so the filmmakers incorporated the idea into the movie to foster the idea that it wasn’t too late for Humanity to change its course.”  
  
Jazz frowned, too. That was another thing Cybertronians had in common with the humans, and one that he wished they didn’t. “Okay, that makes sense. But why whales specifically?”  
  
“I think it had something to do with the environmental movement’s excessive focus on only the whales that were facing extinction.” Prowl shrugged. “I never found a better answer than that.”  
  
“Oh. So… do we ever find out what happens to George and Gracie?”  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
They had moved closer together during the course of the second film and by the beginning of the third film, Prowl was curled against Jazz’s side and the white mech had one arm wrapped tightly around the other. It was nice to simply be close to each other and enjoy something together like this.  
  
Prowl was almost afraid to move or speak; he didn’t want to ruin this perfect moment. Jazz, on the other hand, seemed to have no problems with that at all.   
  
There wasn’t any real warning before the guardsmech tipped his chin up and pressed a kiss to his lip components. It was a soft kiss, lacking the battering passion of their first but still full of affection and promise. Prowl found himself wrapping one hand around the back of Jazz’s neck to pull him closer and prolong the experience.  
  
Jazz rested his forehead against Prowl’s when the broke apart. “How much longer have we got left?”  
  
The question confused him, but the black and gold mech answered anyway. “Almost four hours.”  
  
“Good. I’m not ready to share you again yet.” Jazz kissed him again.  
  
With a pleased sound, Prowl lost himself in the sensation.


	8. Chapter 8

  
Jazz cringed when Ultra Magnus summoned him to his personal quarters. Leaving his post on the command deck and walking into yet another fight with his commanding officer was not part of the plans he’d had for today—or any day, really. It hadn’t been pretty when he had confronted his leader about the code, and it had been brought up twice since then with very heated words. He was sick of it—sick enough that a treacherous part of him wished they had never come to Earth so that the damned code had never activated.  
  
But if they hadn’t, he never would have met Prowl.  
  
With a sigh, he stood and glanced toward Sentinel Prime. “Ultra Magnus wants to see me.”  
  
“Again?” Sentinel frowned.   
  
“Seems so.” The ninja shrugged one shoulder, feigning his usual calm demeanor. “Be back when I’m back.”  
  
“Try to keep it down this time,” the prime said as Jazz moved toward the door. “Those organics filed a noise complaint after your last meeting.”  
  
“I’ll try to remember.” Jazz frowned as he stepped off the bridge.  
  
The corridors of the ship were quiet as he walked, giving the ninja entirely too much time to think on the way. His processor turned in circles trying to figure out what Ultra Magnus could want, aside from yet another rehash of how Jazz had violated his trust by hacking into the medical files and deleted his reproduction code.   
  
He sighed when he arrived at the Magnus’ door. He did not want to step through, but it would be best to get it over with. With a feeling of dread, he reached up and touched the keypad for the door.  
  
Unsurprisingly, the door slid open when he touched the panel. He was expected, after all.  
  
Jazz fidgeted as he stepped inside Ultra Magnus looked him over. He still didn’t know why his leader had called him into his quarters—an unusual meeting place, but no unheard when he wanted to get away from Sentinel—but the older mech’s expression told the ninja that he was probably still angry about their confrontation over the reproduction code and its implementation.  
  
But then, so was Jazz. It had been Ultra Magnus that had approved forcibly removing everyone’s choice in the matter, after all.  
  
“I understand that you’ve been spending a great deal of time with a member of Optimus Prime’s crew,” the Magnus said without preamble. “The same mech that your reproduction code was fixated on, in fact. I thought that problem had been taken care of.”  
  
“The code has been taken care of, no thanks to you.” Jazz scowled. “Anything else I do with my personal time is none of your business.”  
  
“Anything that will negatively impact the functioning of this crew is my business, Jazz.” Ultra Magnus scowled back. “As is anything that could impede your ability to do your duty.”  
  
“I know my duty,” the ninja replied. “And I also know that there ain’t a thing in the regulations about falling in love being against that duty.”  
  
“Love…? By the Allspark, Jazz! We’re on the brink of war again!”  
  
“You think I don’t know that!? The spark wants what the spark wants, and if I’ve finally found who I’m supposed to be with after all these vorns, I’m not letting go!”  
  
The blue mech’s shoulders slumped. “Jazz, be reasonable. Now isn’t the time for this.”  
  
“When will it be the time, boss?” Jazz crossed his arms with a frown. “None of us are getting any younger here.”  
  
“Slaggit, Jazz! I need you here!”  
  
“With respect, sir, this isn’t about what you need.”  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
“Ratchet?” Prowl crept into the medbay quietly, hoping none of the others were in there. Things were complicated enough right now without Bumblebee’s teasing or Sari’s questions.  
  
“What is it, Prowl?” The ninja tried not to wince at the grumpy tone in the medic’s voice. It was bad enough that he was in the medbay again; he didn’t need an unhappy medic to complicate matters.  
  
“I think…” he paused uncomfortably as he came further into the room. “How likely is it that not all of the code was deleted?”  
  
Ratchet looked up at him from the computer screen he was reading. “Well, it’s not impossible. Why? You still having problems?”  
  
“A few, yes.” With a sigh, Prowl settled onto the medical berth. “Nothing that will interfere with my duties, but I thought it best if you did another scan.”  
  
“Right. If you think there’s really something wrong.” The red and white mech gave him a calculating look, before moving to the medical berth. “Let’s see what’s rattling around in this processor of yours.”  
  
The ninja stayed still as Ratchet pulled out his scanner and connected it to his access port. Having the machine pouring over his base code again so soon was uncomfortable in the extreme, but it had to be done. He had to know what was going on with his programming.  
  
“So you’ve been seeing a lot of Jazz lately,” Ratchet said conversationally, not looking up from his scanner.  
  
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have.” Prowl frowned at the other mech.  
  
“How’s that working out for you?” the medic continued, ignoring the ninja’s obvious desire to drop the subject.  
  
“It’s fine.”  
  
“Just fine?” Ratchet raised a disbelieving brow ridge.   
  
“Yes. Just fine.” The black and gold mech’s frown turned into a full glare. “Jazz and I enjoy each other’s company. It’s far more pleasurable than the company of _some_ bots on our teams.”  
  
“Uh huh.” The red and white mech looked back down at his scanner. “You sure that’s all it is, kid?”  
  
“I enjoy Jazz’s company. I enjoy spending time with him and sharing interests and getting to know him.” Prowl’s frown deepened. “I like being around him. That’s all.”  
  
“Prowl, I think we’re both too old for you to be tip-toeing around the subject.” Ratchet unplugged his scanner. “Your code is clean, and we both knew it was when you came in here. What’s really going on?”  
  
Prowl fought the very un-ninja like urge to squirm. He had truly been hoping that his jumble of thoughts and feelings regarding Jazz were simply a product of a bit of code that hadn’t been properly deleted. That would have been easier—and safer—to deal with. But if the emotions were real, he would have to deal with that and the inevitable sparkache that would happen when Jazz left.  
  
The Elite Guard couldn’t stay on Earth forever, after all.  
  
Ratchet sighed deeply, apparently taking some sort of pity on him. “Look, Prowl. Sometimes two sparks just… fit, like the Allspark made them for each other. The medical corps has never had a good explanation for it, but there were a lot of documented cases before the war.”  
  
“So what do I do?” Prowl hated how weak the question made him sound.  
  
The medic gave an amused huff. “I’m the last bot you should ask for relationship advice. But I do know that you’d be an idiot if you let him get away. Bots like Jazz don’t come along every stellar cycle.”


	9. Chapter 9

  
  
  
Jazz set his stylus against the datapad thoughtfully, doing his best to chose his words carefully and not create an even bigger hassle for Ultra Magnus than he already had. Things were going to be tense enough back home with the confirmation of the Decepticon uprising; he didn’t need to make things even worse with some kind of scandal surrounding how he’d resigned.  
  
But he had a duty to himself that he could no longer allow to be overshadowed by duty to a mech he wasn’t sure he could still trust.  
  
 _To Ultra Magnus, Autobot High Command  
  
In light of recent events on the planet Earth concerning myself, I have determined that I must turn in my resignation from the Elite Guard and request to be retired from active duty in the Autobot military forces.  
  
This decision was not made lightly or without deep thought toward the consequences of this action. However, this is the course I feel I must take.  
  
My resignation will be effective immediately and…_  
  
//Jazz!// Sentinel’s voice over the comm system interrupted his train of thought abruptly. //Get outside and provide backup to Optimus Prime’s team. The Decepticons have them pinned down near the docks.//  
  
“Timing,” the ninja sighed. Quickly he activated his comm and tucked his datapad into subspace as he rose from his berth. //On my way, SP. You en route?//  
  
//I’m already there!// There was a garbled sound of pain on the other end of the line. //And there are at least six Seekers here! Hurry it up!//  
  
Jazz pull a map from the online database and found the quickest route to the docks. //ETA is six minutes, local time. Best I can do.//  
  
//I hope there’s something left when you get here.// There was the sound of laser fire and then Sentinel cut off the comm abruptly.  
  
Jazz sprinted for the boarding ramp.  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Prowl was pinned down behind some crates, attempting to provide cover--or at least an enticing distraction--from the Seekers overhead as Ratchet worked frantically to stabilize Bumblebee. Somewhere to his left, Optimus and Sentinel Prime were equally pinned down by the Decepticon’s superior air support. The ninja couldn’t leave cover to attempt to find Bulkhead and Sari, but he could hear the large mech’s wrecking ball smashing into things and hoped that the girl was with him and safe.  
  
Before they had been scattered and pinned down, Prowl had counted six different color schemes among the Seekers. None of them had familiar patterns, except for Starscream, and all of them were very focused on deactivating every other Cybertronian on the docks.  
  
The fact that Megatron had been as surprised to see them as Optimus wasn’t reassuring.  
  
He glanced back at Ratchet, watching for a moment as the medic fought for their teammate’s life. If they didn’t get out of this fight, Bumblebee was not going to make it. His fingers flexed around the shuriken in his hand; Bumblebee was obnoxious and irritating, but he was part of his dysfunctional family and Prowl didn’t want him dead.  
  
“Ratchet, stay here. I’m going to try and draw their fire so that Bulkhead can get Sari and her key to you.” The ninja didn’t wait for Ratchet’s response--the medic would only tell him not to go anyway. He stepped out from behind his cover and flung his shuriken at one of the Seekers.  
  
The weapon glanced off of red and black plating, causing no damage but getting the new Seeker’s attention. The flier roared in outrage and turned toward him with lasers firing. Prowl was in motion before the blasts could hit the ground, leaping away from the scattered cover being used by the Autobots and toward the location where he had last seen the Decepticons.   
  
Megatron certainly wouldn’t give him a warm welcome, but he would likely be a good distraction for Starscream and his cohort.  
  
The red and black Seeker followed him closely, firing his weapons at a near constant stream. One shot clipped a sensory fin as the flier flashed overhead and he hissed in pain. The jet would be back for another pass momentarily, if one of the Decepticons didn’t take him out first.  
  
Prowl ignored the pain from his damaged sensor panel and turned his attention to the Seekers who were still pinning the other Autobots down. Simply removing the red Seeker from the equation was not enough. He would have to draw more of them away before the others could break cover. He turned the options over in his processor before settling on a course of action.  
  
The ninja turned as he ran, heading back toward the battle in an arc that wouldn’t lead the red and black Seeker directly back to the other Autobots, but would give him a chance to draw another of the fliers away. Hopefully, Optimus would catch on to what he was doing fairly quickly and lend a hand; he didn’t think he could play the distraction for all six Seekers effectively.  
  
Prowl could hear the red and black Seeker coming back toward him. He could also hear the sound of laser fire hitting the ground behind him. The ninja began moving in an evasive pattern, hoping to prevent any additional damage even as he lost a bit of speed.  
  
Bumblebee might not have enough time for a long, drawn out encounter, but Prowl wouldn’t do him any good at all if he got himself deactivated.  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Jazz stood just outside the perimeter of the battle with Ultra Magnus and took in the scene. The older mech had wanted to assess the situation before they charged in, but they both knew they wouldn’t have much time for that.  
  
Especially not with that red Seeker on Prowl’s tail.  
  
He tensed when the Seeker began peppering the ground behind Prowl with laser fire. It was landing far too close for comfort. Prowl was running in an evasive pattern, but the jet was still frighteningly likely to hit him.  
  
“Sorry boss,” Jazz said, drawing his nunchuku and preparing to join the fray. “No time for planning.”  
  
“Be careful, Jazz.” Ultra Magnus didn’t try to stop him, which the ninja was grateful for. “We don’t know their full capabilities.”  
  
Jazz nodded. “I will. Once Prowl’s clear, you can do your thing.”  
  
The Magnus nodded and the black and white ninja took that as his cue to dart out of their cover. He raced toward Prowl, not bothering to try and keep to an evasive pattern or keep any of the other Seekers from noticing him. It was much more important that he get his mech out from in front of the red and black Seeker and clear the battlefield so that Ultra Magnus could work his magic.  
  
Prowl was still running, focused on a goal that Jazz wasn’t privy too. The red Seeker was still following and still shooting--and those shots were flying over the dark ninja’s sholders and head. One wrong move on Prowl’s part and it would all be over.  
  
Jazz barreled into his side without warning, knocking himself and Prowl outside the Seeker’s immediate range.  
  
They tumbled a few feet, knocked even further away by Jazz’s momentum. Prowl fought him for several seconds, trying almost desperately to get away, before he realized who was pinning him down.  
  
“Jazz! We have to draw the Seekers away from the others!” Prowl’s voice was serious and had just a touch of fear underneath. Something heavy must be going on that Jazz didn’t know about.  
  
“If there are any left in a few seconds, we’ll worry then.” He kept the black and gold mech pinned to the ground, and lowered his head to rest next to the other mech’s. “Keep your head down and just watch the fireworks.”  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-  
  
Once Sari’s key had worked its magic on Bumblebee--a sight that had rendered even Sentinel speechless--they limped back to base with two Seekers in stasis cuffs. The others had flown away at the first sign that the Autobots’ backup was a match for their aerial superiority and the Decepticons had done the same once the Seekers were gone.  
  
Better that Megatron and his cronies slink away after the Autobots had done all the hard work, than having to engage in another battle right away.  
  
Ratchet had repaired Prowl’s damaged sensor panel with a minimum of grousing after they returned to the base. Then the ninjas had retired to Prowl’s room, despite the protests Sentinel Prime sent after them. Prowl needed the peace that his quarters provided and Jazz needed the reassurance that the other ninja was alive and wholly functional.  
  
They were curled together at the base of the tree, with Jazz holding Prowl closely against his chest plates. They hadn’t moved since coming in, even though Prowl needed a good wash after the battle. Both of them were much more concerned with simply being together after such an ugly fight.  
  
“What are you thinking?” Prowl asked softly, shifting so that he could look up at the white and black mech.  
  
“A lot of stuff,” Jazz answered honestly, looking down at the mech in his arms and giving him a small smile. “Mostly that I’m glad I didn’t lose you out there today.”  
  
“I’m harder to get rid of than that,” the black and gold ninja replied, trying to lighten the mood.   
  
“You might not have been, if the boss and I had been a few minutes later. None of you are really equipped for fighting aerial opponents, let alone that many.”   
  
“But you were there, and things didn’t end as badly as they could have.” Prowl reached up and rested a hand on Jazz’s cheek plate. “We are here now, and dwelling on what could have happened is useless.”  
  
“I know. I just…” Jazz shifted so he could look at the other ninja face to face. “I love you, Prowl. And I almost didn’t get a chance to tell you.”  
  
Prowl’s face went slack with shock. “Jazz…”  
  
“I love you,” the black and white mech repeated. “It’s not just lust and not some program. I love you, spark deep.”  
  
For a long moment Jazz thought it was the wrong thing to have said, as Prowl’s expression didn’t change. Then, slowly, a smile spread across the dark ninja’s face. He moved his hand to the back of the white ninja’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss.  
  
“I love you,” Prowl replied when they broke apart.


	10. Chapter 10

Jazz boarded the _Steelhaven_ several local hours after Sentinel Prime’s preferred curfew hour. He was humming a happy tune until he caught sight of the prime.

"It's about time you decided to show up again," Sentinel said darkly. "I expect this sort of insubordinate behavior from that crew of rejects out there, but you're better than them! What's your excuse, Jazz?"

Jazz shrugged one shoulder. "I was with Prowl. And if you cared so much, you could have commed. I would have answered."

The prime frowned. "The amount of time you spend with that _repair bot_ is decidedly suspicious. I thought that programming was purged."

"It was." The ninja returned the frown. "I've been with him because I want to be. It's not your business beyond that. My personal time is just that."

"You didn't even check in! You could have been attacked by Decepticons or worse! You were irresponsible and insubordinate!"

"I'm not a newspark, Sentinel, and this is not the academy. Stop treating me like one of your rookies." Jazz's usually calm voice went cold. "My friends and relationships aren't your business."

“They are when they interfere with the running of this ship!” 

“Sentinel Prime,” Ultra Magnus’ voice cut through the younger mech’s angry tirade. “Stand down. Your concerns are noted, but this is a matter that I will settle.”

Sentinel frowned and gave Jazz a glare. “Yes, sir.”

Jazz pointedly looked away from the prime. 

“Jazz, report to my office immediately. It’s high time we took care of this problem.”

The ninja’s voice was still cold as he replied. “Yes, sir.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Ultra Magnus stared at him from across his desk. Jazz met the gaze without flinching or fidgeting, though it was a bit of a trial the longer his superior officer remained silent.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of just staring, Magnus spoke. “The situation between yourself and Prowl has reached a point where it is interfering with the running of this ship. What do you plan to do about it, Jazz?”

Grateful for being given such an open opportunity, Jazz drew his data pad from subspace and laid it on the desk. The Magnus picked it up and activated it, scanning the text with critical optics.

After long moments, he looked back up at the ninja.

“I’m sorry, Jazz. I cannot accept your resignation.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Prowl sighed and made his way toward the wash rack after Ratchet relieved him on the monitors. It was late enough that it was actually quiet in the base with Sari sleeping, Bumblebee in recharge in front of the television and Bulkhead in his quarters painting, and he found that he missed Jazz the most during these times. The other mech’s presence filled the quiet subtly, and brought peace and stability to systems that were overtaxed with the life the Earth team led.

Prowl _missed_ him, with an intensity that was ridiculous since the white ninja was still on the same planet.

He was passing his room when he noticed the nightlife go silent. He listened carefully, and faintly heard the rumble of a very large engine. The dark ninja stepped into his room and leaped into his tree, prepared to wake the others and call Jazz if necessary.

He was not prepared for the sight of the _Steelhaven_ lifting off. He watched in horror as she angled upward, flying past aircraft lanes and into the stars.

“No, Jazz...”

Prowl barely registered his legs giving out under him as he felt his spark break. He collapsed against the tree and wailed softly.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Jazz stared at the datapad in his hand as he made his way inside the Earth base. After all the anger and arguing, he couldn’t quite believe the contents. Couldn’t believe he was staying.

“Jazz, welcome to the team.” Optimus smiled warmly as the white ninja stepped into the main room. “I’m glad to have you.”

“And I’m glad to be here.” Jazz handed the data pad to his new commanding officer. “Ultra Magnus has a few additional orders on there for you and your team, and there’s a cargo sled of supplies just outside the door for all of us.”

“Thank you.” The prime started reading over the data pad. “I think Prowl is in his quarters, if you’d like to tell him about your new orders yourself.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” The Guardsmech smiled. “We at liberty until you need us?”

“Hm?” Optimus looked up from the data pad. “Yes. Ratchet is on the monitors, so you have the night free. Just... try and keep it down.”

Jazz ducked his head in embarrassment. “Sure, boss bot. Sorry if we kept you up last time.”

“Just don’t do it again. There are some things Sari doesn’t need to know about until she’s older.”

“Right.” The white ninja nodded. He didn’t want to discuss the physical side of his relationship with Prowl any more than Optimus did. “We’ll be quiet as cybercats. Comm if you need anything.”

He didn’t miss Optimus’ disbelieving chuckle as he walked toward Prowl’s room. He slipped inside without knocking, hoping to slip in and surprise his lover with both his presence and his good news.

Jazz had been expecting the room’s usual tranquility, but instead he was met with silence.

The happy smile the white ninja had been wearing fell off his face. “Prowl?”

He was answered by an unhappy “meow” as the cat that made its home in Prowl’s room darted out from under the dark ninja’s berth and dashed up the tree. Jazz followed its path with his optics, but didn’t see his lover settled into his usual place. He frowned as worry crept into his processor. Where had Prowl gone, that he hadn’t even told his team leader?

Quietly, Jazz turned and left the room. He’d search the rest of the base and see if Prowl was simply in another room before telling Optimus that he was gone. The black and gold mech was fond of his privacy, after all, and might just be hiding out someplace where the others wouldn’t think to look for him.

The halls were quiet as he walked through them. None of the other members of the team were moving around, either resting or engaged in their own hobbies. The extra quiet let him focus more on his audial input, listening for anything that seemed out of place or different in the warehouse.

He walked, silently as he could on the concrete floor, and listened.

Sari was snoring quietly in her bedroom, with just the faintest trickle of music coming from her headphones. Bulkhead was in his own room, painting on a canvas nearly as big as Optimus. Ratchet was in the medbay, sitting in a high backed chair and recharging soundly. 

He started to move on and check Bumblebee's room, when he heard water running in the washracks. 

Softly, Jazz moved toward the washrack door. He couldn't hear anything but the water, making it highly unlikely that the occupant was Bumblebee unless the yellow bot was offline or deactivated. That left Prowl as the room's occupant, unless Bee had staged some kind of prank.

He was met by humidity as he eased the door open, warm air and water vapor rushing out and covering his frame. He wiped condensation from his visor and peered into the room. The lights were turned off, but the black and white ninja could make out a dark form huddled underneath the washrack's spray of hot water.

Jazz stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind him. "Prowl?"

The other ninja didn't stir.

"Hey, Prowl." The guardsmech moved closer. "Love?"

Prowl still didn't move. Jazz frowned and knelt down at his lover's side, laying a hand on the other mech's back.

The black and gold mech jumped at the contact and swung out blindly with one hand. Jazz caught the clumsy punch and held Prowl's hand tightly as the other ninja's optics powered up. 

Prowl looked at him in confusion, processor clearly muddled by having been pulled out of recharge unexpectedly. "Jazz?" 

"I'm here, love." The Guardsmech used the arm he had captured to pull his lover closer. 

"But the _Steelhaven_..." Prowl frowned. "I'm dreaming, aren't I? I'm going to wake up soon and you'll be gone."

"You're awake now, mech." Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl and pulled the other mech into a hug. "I'm here, and I'm not leaving you."

"But what about your position on the ship? You can't just desert your post." The black and gold mech frowned. 

"I didn't. This _is_ my post, here in Detroit with you and the rest of the team." The white and black mech kissed the top of his lover's head. "Magnus drew up the orders himself. I guess he has a romantic streak after all."

"Romantic is hardly a way I would describe Ultra Magnus."

"Practical, then. I was ready to resign to stay with you. Gave him the letter and everything."

"You were going to resign?" Prowl was astounded. "But the Guard--"

"Has lots of members on Cybertron. I'm good, not indispensable." Jazz moved a hand to the other ninja's chin and tipped Prowl's face up so that he could give the other mech a proper kiss. "And you are worth leaving that all behind. The Guard is just a job. You're where my life is."

The repairmech looked at the Guardsmech admiringly. "I love you."

"Love you too, Prowl."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here is the gratitously smutty ending. 
> 
> thanks for your patience (especially you, Wick!) as i finished this up. i never expected this to get pre-empted by Other Projects the way it did.

**Six Months Later**

Prowl smiled as he tugged Jazz into the shower, both of them feeling especially good after managing to recover several Allspark fragments without damage to any citizens or the city. The white and black mech followed with a matching smile, happy to follow his lover's lead.

The Guardsmech locked the door as the repairmech turned on the water. Then he stepped toward the slimmer mech and wrapped his arms around the other ninja. "What do you have planned, love?"

Prowl turned in his lover's arms so that he was facing the white and black ninja. "I was thinking of a thorough washing, then retreating to our room where we could make love until sunrise."

Jazz grinned, both at the plan and Prowl's candid answer. He loved it when the black and gold mech was so frank with him about his desires. "Mm, I like that plan. Not sure I want to wait for that thorough washing before we get started, though."

"Oh?" The repairmech smirked. "Just what did you have in mind?"

"I'm thinking something like this." Jazz moved his hands to Prowl's hips and moved him back toward the wall. The warm water fell down onto them in a soft patter, glittering in the room's simple incandescent light and highlighting the angles of the black and gold mech's plating. The white and black mech savored the view for a few seconds before crouching down in front of his lover.

Prowl's cooling fans activated abruptly when Jazz's knees reached the floor. He slid the plating over his interface components open without any prompting from the Guardsmech, sighing softly as his spike pressurized.

"Moving fast today, mech. I think I like it." Jazz said, echoing the slender ninja's fantasy from so many months before. Then the white and black ninja leaned forward and took Prowl's waiting spike into his mouth.

The black and gold mech groaned as his lover sand down along his spike and found the sensors along the shaft. Jazz stimulated them with lips and glossa, teasing with careful gestures and brief sensations for a few seconds before moving on to other sensors. Prowl groaned and arched his back, thrusting his spike further into the black and white mech's mouth and seeking more touch than the Guardsmech's soft licks and gentle strokes.

Jazz pushed the other ninja's hips back against the wall and held them there. He drew back away from the slender mech's spike, letting the water fall onto the appendage and tease his lover even more with its barely-there sensation. 

"Jazz, please! This is hardly fair!"

"Just relax, lover. I want you to slow down and enjoy this." The white and black mech reached up and dragged one finger along the bottom of Prowl's spike. "I promise it'll be worth it."

Prowl twitched in the Guardsmech's grasp, but he nodded slowly. "All right."

"Thank you."

Jazz put his hand back on the repairmech's hip and lowered his face back to the black and gold mech's spike. Slowly he extended his glossa, making the gesture itself into a show for the other mech, and touched it to a water droplet that had beaded on Prowl's spike. With exaggerated care, he licked the water off. Then he moved to another droplet and repeated the process. Prowl whimpered softly when the Guardsmech moved to a third droplet. With the fourth drop, the slender mech groaned and his spike twitched as his neural net sparked with pleasure.

Pleased with the response he had gotten, Jazz stopped likcing up water droplets and shifted his attention. Reverently, the white and black mech kissed the tip of Prowl's spike. Then he opened his mouth and sank back down onto the shaft. Prowl groaned as Jazz stimulated all the sensors in his spike in rapid succession, and he attempted to thrust into the warm pleasure.

The Guardsmech tightened his grip and held the black and gold mech more firmly against the wall as he drew back. Then he sank down again, giving Prowl the stimulation he desired. Jazz moved more slowly than Prowl seemed to want but he continued his deliberate stimulation, slowly dragging the other ninja toward overload.

"Ah, Jazz!" The white and black mech looked up at Prowl's cry, watching as the ecstasy of overload crept across his lover's face. 

Jazz sank down to the base of the other mech's spike when he felt the first spurt of transfluid burst from it, swallowing quickly and savoring the taste of his lover. He drew back slowly as the black and gold mech's overload trailed off, extending the pleasurable sensations for a few seconds before they became more than the other mech could handle.

Prowl stared down at him, smiling slightly. 

"Told you you'd enjoy it," Jazz said, smiling and standing back up. He pressed a soft kiss to the sated mech's lips and pulled Prowl into a hug.

"Mm, yes. So you did." Prowl returned the kiss and settled happily into his lover's arms. "I love you, Jazz."

"I love you too, Prowl. With my whole spark."

The water fell softly onto their plating and they stood and simply savored each other's company. 

For approximately thirty seconds, before Sari's shout came through the door. "If you two are done having sex in there, some of us need to _actually_ get cleaned up today!"

Prowl stiffened in embarrassment and Jazz chuckled.


End file.
